AN:Thanks for all the follows, faves, and reviews! Please keep them coming, I will be updating two more times this weekend.
Disclaimer:I do not own Divergent or any of its related content or characters. All rights go to Veronica Roth.
Chapter 6.
My alarm goes off way too early. Seven fifteen. We didn't get back to the compound until after four last night. Lauren was right, its going to be a long day. Eric is going to be in awful mood from last nights loss. I hope none of the transfers do anything stupid. I'm too tired to pull someone from the chasm today.
I get to the training room and Eric is setting the throwing knives out on the table. I don't say anything. I just start getting the targets set up. I hear the initiates file into the room. He stands up tall and firm, like there is a metal rod where his spine used to be. I can feel the tension in the room, like the air is pressing down on me. He is looking for something, anything, to give him a reason to explode. He is dangerous.
"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," Eric says. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives." His voice is deeper than usual. "And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them."
No one moves. They all stand there looking between Eric and I. Not quite sure what to do. They are clearly exhausted as well.
"Now!" Eric growls at them. They all scramble for daggers and line up in front of the targets. At least, they are using their heads for once.
Eric gives me a look of pure hatred. He took last nights loss hard. I knew he would. Capture the flag is a matter of pride. Pride is important in Dauntless. I know that I can't afford to revel in my victory, especially since I owe most of it to Tris. He is looking for any reason to attack today. I can't give him that reason, and I hope she doesn't either.
I walk up to one of the targets. I position myself carefully, taking aim. I inhale and let the knife fly, exhaling as I release. It sticks perfectly in the center of the board. I can feel her watching me. studying my movements. I repeat the process two more times, making sure to describe to the initiates what I am doing each time.
Eric orders them to line up and begin throwing. I walk behind them watching their form as they throw. Most of them start throwing as soon as they have a knife in their hand. No one hits the target. The sounds of metal hitting concrete echo in the room. I stop for a minute behind Tris. She hasn't thrown a knife yet. There is one in her hand, but she is taking her time, practicing the rhythm of my movements, trying to memorize the feeling before she throws. She is careful and thoughtful in her actions.
"I think the stiff has taken one to many shots to the head." Peter laughs. "Hey Stiff! Remeber what a knife is?"
I see her body tense. She inhales and exhales deeply, closing her eyes. I can tell that his comment got to her, but she doesn't take the bait. Smart girl, Tris. In one graceful motion, she lets the knife in her hand fly. It hits the target, handle side first, and bounces to the ground. She is the first to come close to even hitting the target. I smile slightly behind her.
"Hey Peter, remember what a target is?" she says back, sarcastically.
I see him bristle at her words. He begins to throw again, more determined. I laugh, and walk away to cover it up. I see her smile a satisfied smile. She narrows her eyes at the target, takes aim, and lets another one fly. It sticks firmly in the target. The handle quivering a little on impact. She is the first one to land one. Eric has a look of shock on his face. I keep walking so that he can't see the look of pride on my face.
We continue throwing for a solid hour. Al is the only initiate who has not managed to hit the target. As all the other initiates go to collect their knives from the target, he searches the floor. I see Eric leave his position on the wall and come fast towards Al. I stop where I am and cross my arms, watching. This is not going to end well.
"How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?" Eric snarls at him.
Al's face turns red. He throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the wall.
"What the hell was that initiate?" says Eric quietly, leaning closer to Al.
"It—it slipped," says Al.
"Well, I think you should go get it," Eric says. He scans the other initiates' faces—everyone has stopped throwing again—and says, "Did I tell you to stop?"
Knives start to hit the board. I have seen Eric angry before, but this is different. He has an almost psychotic look in his eyes. I watch them both carefully, ready to step in if necessary.
"Go get it." Eric snaps inches from Al's face.
"Go get it?" Al's eyes are wide. "But everyone's still throwing."
"And?" Eric spits.
"And I don't want to get hit." Al says.
Bad move. Bad fucking move, Al. Of all the days to grow a spine, he picks this one. What is it with the Candor? My face tenses and I feel my muscle go rigid, alert. I really don't have the energy for this today.
"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you." Eric smiles a little, but his eyes stay cruel. "Go get your knife."
Al stands resolutely in front of Eric. He is a good three inches taller than Eric. He would look menacing, if he wasn't such a coward. There isn't a cruel bone in his body. He was never cut out for life as a Dauntless.
"No." he says.
"Why not? Are you afraid?" Eric says, narrowing his eyes at Al.
"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife?" he says, a little hysterically. "Yes, I am!"
"Everyone stop!" Eric commands. The initiates freeze immediately. "Everyone, except you." he says, glaring at Al.
"Clear out of the ring. Except you." Eric looks at Al like he is a piece of meat. A predator looking at its prey.
I glance back at the initiates, checking to see that they all comply. Everyone is backing out of the ring. Tris stands at the back of them. As they all clamor for a better view, she steps back in the corner further. She looks as if she is going to be sick. I hate to see her so upset by the current situation, but I am happy that she is smart enough to keep out of view.
"Stand in front of the target," says Eric.
Al's big hands shake. He walks back to the target.
"Hey, Four." Eric looks over his shoulder. "Give me a hand here, huh?"
Oh, hell, here we go. I scratch one of my eyebrows with a knife point and approach Eric. I can feel Tris behind me, her eyes watching my every move. I have to stop this. If I don't, she will think I am as cruel as he is.
"You're going to stand there as he throws those knives," Eric says to Al, "until you learn not to flinch." Eric was never any good at throwing knives. He is determined to teach Al a lesson, but he does't want to kill him, either. He is still in trouble for the stunt he pulled with Christina. Purposely injuring another initiate would end his career in Dauntless and he knows it. He needs my help to pull this off. But, I draw the line at pointless cruelty. I will not participate in this willingly.
"Is this really necessary?" I say. Trying to sound bored, but I don't look it. My face and body are tense, alert.
I see Tris out of the corner of my eye. She sqeezes her fists tightly. She is nervous. She can sense the danger in the room. She knows that my response was a challenge.
Eric stares at me for a minute. I stare back. I am not backing down.
"I have the authority here, remember?" Eric says, so quietly I can barely hear him. "Here, and everywhere else."
Color rushes into my face, though my expression does not change. I tighten my grip on the knives in anger and turn to face Al. He looks absolutely terrified. Despite his size, all I see is a frightened child. A frightened child in gray Abnegation clothing, waiting for the belt to strike down hard against him.
Tris looks from my face to Al's and back again. Don't do it, Tris. I close my eyes knowing what she is about to do, but praying that she doesn't.
"Stop it!" she yells.
I turn the knife in my hand, running my fingers slowly down the metal edge trying to remind her what she is asking for. I stare her down hard. She immediately turns to stone. She knows it was stupid to speak up. Reckless.
"Any idiot can stand in front of a target. It doesn't prove anything except that you are a bully. I seem to recall you telling us that picking on the weak is a sign of cowardice." She stares at Eric. But I know she feels my eyes on her. Warning her. The cowardice remark went too far. Eric's eyes flash at her. She will pay for that last remark. He will not be satisfied until he sees her blood.
"Then it should be easy for you, if you are willing, to take his place." he says. The gauntlet clearly lain before her.
Be smart Tris. Backdown. But, I know better. The wild spark dances across her eyes. She will not back down form this, from him, from anyone. She moves to take Al's place infront of the target. Her head doesn't even reach the targets shoulders. She lifts her chin up and stares at me. Her eyes study mine. For a moment, she looks nervous.
"If you flinch, Al takes your place, understand?" I say carefully.
She nods at me, but I know she doesn't understand what I am trying to tell her. I pull my elbow back and throw, my eyes never leaving her hers. The knife stabs in the board, six inches from her cheek. She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh of relief.
"About done Stiff?" I say through clenched teeth.
"No." she snaps back at me.
"Eyes open then." I tap between my eyebrows with the point of the knife.
Her eyes open wide flashing that wild spark at me. I never take my eyes off of hers, trying to communicate the danger she is in. I let the second knife fly. It hits the board two inches above her head. He eyes grow wide when she realizes wher the knife hit. but her eyes never leave mine. There is a look of fury spreading across her face. I can see her hands shaking, but she presses them against her sides to hide it.
"Come on Stiff, let someone else stand there and take it." I say, annoyance in my tone.
"Shut up, Four!" she spits back at me.
My eyes glint at her. I am going to end this now. I am angry at Eric for starting this whole mess, angry at Al for being such a miserable coward, and angry at her for being so reckless. I know what I have to do to this end this. She has no idea the position she is putting me in, or maybe she does and just doesn't care. Either way, I am done with this. In one swift motion I hurl the last knife towards her. Her body stiffens and then I see the blood run down her ear. I give her a pointed look. Letting her know with my face that we are done here.
There is absolute rage dancing in her eyes as she touches her hand to her ear. The knife stuck in board mere centimeters from her face.
Eric claps his hands and says something to the others about being as brave as Tris and then squeezes her on the shoulder like she is his new favorite toy. Her body goes rigid at his touch. She never takes her eyes off me. I try to pretend that I can't see her staring at me, pretend that I don't want to return her stare. But, I know that giving Eric any reason to think messing with her, messes with me is too dangerous.
I start to clean up the knives and the targets as the initiates leave. Tris hangs around waiting for us to be alone. I know she thinks I am on Eric's side in all this. When I hear the door shut behind the last few, I walk towards her in attempt to explain.
"Is your—" I begin.
"You did that on purpose!" I shout.
"Yes, I did," I say quietly. "And you should thank me for helping you."
She grits her teeth. "Thank you? You almost stabbed my ear, and you spent the entire time taunting me. Why should I thank you?"
"You know, I'm getting a little tired of waiting for you to catch on!" I snap back at her, anger and anxiety getting the better of me. I glare at her, but I can't help but worry about her. The thought of anything happening to her makes me feel sick.
"Catch on? Catch on to what? That you wanted to prove to Eric how tough you are? That you're sadistic, just like he is?" her voice cracks a little, the stress of today wearing on her. I feel like someone just punched me. She does think I am on the same side as Eric. Cruel and calculating, praying on the weak, just like my father.
"I am not sadistic." I say quietly. I lean in close to her. She looks scared, like I am going to attack her at any moment. "If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have done it already?"
I can feel my anger rising in my chest. I want to grab her and shake her. Scream at her that she is reckless and is going to get herself killed. At the same time, I want to wrap her in my arms and bury my face in hers. She frustrates me and facinates me. I walk away to stop myself from doing both. I slam the knife in my hand into the table and it sticks there. I stare at the wall, my back towards her.
"I-" she starts to shout at me, but I can't stay here. If I stay here, I will do something I regret or something that will endanger her. I can't have either right now. After initiation, it will be different. Right now, protecting her is more important. I walk out the room slamming the door behind me. I can hear Tris scream in frustration as the door closes.